


I mistake you for smoke

by Warmybones



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Eagerness, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Sensuality, will add tags as i add chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 05:10:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14157477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warmybones/pseuds/Warmybones
Summary: Keith moves his lips, slowly. So slowly he feels dizzy with Lance’s scent. He catches Lance’s upper lip with his mouth and loves him there, coaxes Lance to love him back with the drag of his inexperienced ache. Lance makes a sound. A soft, perfect sound that has him opening underneath Keith’s movements, has him tilting his head to chase the feeling of Keith’s mouth better.He chokes on the air Lance’s breathing into him, curls his toes and desperately tries to keep up.— Or: 20 different kisses, following thislist.





	I mistake you for smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little challenge to kick writer's block and my perfectionist tendencies.  
> Hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1\. breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths

Lance has been babbling.

Keith is used to it, recognizes the cadence of his voice and follows its rhythm with the easiness that comes with loving something. It doesn’t bother him; neither the torrent of words that are flowing off Lance’s tongue, nor the way his heart picks up its tempo when the richness of that voice seeps through his skin as heat.

It doesn’t hurt anymore, at least.

But this time… This time Lance is _nervous_ and his mouth is getting the best of him, running wild as the words keep on bouncing off the walls of the Galra base. Keith isn’t bothered as much as he’s afraid. The mission is quickly spiraling out of control and there’s something between him and Lance, something distractingly electric that has them more tense than usual.

Running from a horde of droids, Keith tries not to think about how they keep stealing glances of the other-- quick and slightly reckless movements that catapult Keith’s heart into his throat. Being reunited after months apart should be reason enough to let their eyes linger just a bit too long, to let himself focus on the sparks cracking along his nerves when he catches Lance looking.

Instead, he’s skidding on a curve, fingers dragging over the floor until he’s running ahead of Lance and suffocating the need to keep him by his side. They need a way out of this and Keith can’t find it if he lets the warmth settling on the most tender pieces of himself daze him. The danger is weighing on his bones and he is a _little_ glad that Lance keeps on talking, because not having a clear sight of him means that the panic knotting his throat is only going to get tighter.

It’s then, when he starts feeling the burn of his muscles edging on too much, that he finds their way out; a black door that’s too small to fit their heights but that still feels like salvation. Keith bursts it open with a hard, well-placed kick and doesn’t let his mind focus on how tiny the space is, just turns around to catch the way Lance’s eyes widen as he runs towards him.

“Ohhh,” Lance says, and the awe in his voice gets swallowed by his ragged breathing. “This is like the spy movies, you know? The ones where they get caught and--”

“Get _in,_ ” Keith hisses when Lance is close enough to touch, wrapping his fingers around Lance’s wrist and guiding him inside with a hard tug.

He takes advantage of their momentum and swings the door shut, pressing himself against the wall to give Lance the leverage he needs as his eyes begin to adjust to the darkness around them. Their harsh breaths echo throughout the space, but Keith can still keep track of the sound of footsteps outside, the screams of the generals as they try to find them-- and that’s all that he can focus on.

At least, until all the chaos starts drawing away, the space around them growing quieter and quieter until only their pulse is ringing in their ears. Adrenaline is still buzzing underneath Keith’s skin, but his tunnel vision is slowly giving way to details he hasn’t noticed before; things that make his pulse stutter inside his veins before picking up, choking him.

He can feel the entirety of Lance’s torso moving as he takes breath after breath, feels their armors sliding against the other and the under-armor covering their bellies hissing at the contact. It’s not comfortable, but Keith has his body lowered, thighs spread so Lance can fit in between them like he was born to be there, and that’s all that his mind can process.

The warmth of Lance’s hands at both sides of his head, the drag of his fingers against the wall devastatingly loud as he shifts, brushing against Keith’s inner thighs like a feverish daydream.

Keith wants to collapse on the spot.

He also wants to lower his body, press against Lance’s thighs and angle his torso until he can feel Lance’s hip bones pressing against the dip of his hips. Wants to feel the heat gathering in the crevices of his ribcage and melt as it travels down his stomach-- down, down, _down..._

“Hey,” Lance says then, as softly as the caress that the words leave against Keith’s cheek. “Is it-- is it uncomfortable for you?”

Keith startles, frame rattling in a way that presses them even closer, and catches Lance’s eyes, a faint blush spreading across the bridge of his own nose. He can’t seem look away from how the faint light of the room catches on Lance’s cheekbones, how his mouth seems perfectly fitted for Keith’s. His heart is burning inside his chest, and yet he lets the depth of Lance’s gaze swallow him.

“What?”

“This. Um, being this close,” he clarifies, averting his eyes and inhaling through his nose harder than he probably means to.

“I’m okay,” Keith says, out of breath, trying to smother the need to dig his nails into Lance’s shoulders and kiss the curve of his jaw. He’s having a hard remembering that Lance is this thoughtful with everyone, not just him. “You?”

Lance chuckles, and he’s so close Keith feels it all the way down to his toes.

“Dude, I was brought up to have next to no sense of privacy. You could be laying on me and I wouldn’t be bothered.”

Keith snorts to mask the dryness of his throat at the mere thought. Him, laying on top of Lance and following the solid planes of his chest with his fingertips. He thinks of feeling skin against skin and trembles, has to train his eyes on the edges of Lance’s suit and breathe his way out of an emotional collapse.

He’s never been this intimate with anyone. He has never _wanted_ to be this intimate with someone, and yet Lance is mere inches away, lips half-opened and eyes slightly widened, and the only thing Keith wants to do is forget the consequences and melt against him.

And maybe his eyes are too telling when he looks back at Lance, because he snaps his mouth shut and stutters out a breath, fingers curling beside Keith’s ear in a weak attempt to hide the tremors of his arms. He starts babbling again, almost as if getting Keith’s undivided attention is as nerve-wracking as being found by the Galra, and Keith bites his lip. Feels his skin too tight over his ribcage and bites harder.

“Lance,” he whispers, dripping tenderness over his ragged edges.

He doesn’t think; ceases to feel anything and becomes wired nerves as instinct takes over. He leans forward, tips his head up to salvage that resilient inch that Lance has on him, and caresses their lips together.

The heat surprises him. It spreads through his lips like wildfire, advances through his cheeks and dips underneath his eyelids to sting. He’s thrown back into his body, into feeling his heart pulsing throughout each vein, blood rushing in his ears as their teeth click together. It should be awkward, should have Keith shying away from their contact, but he is feeling Lance’s lips on his very core, the taste of him on his tongue, and he wants it so much he feels his chest might explode.

Keith moves his lips, slowly. So slowly he feels dizzy with Lance’s scent. He catches Lance’s upper lip with his mouth and loves him there, coaxes Lance to love him back with the drag of his inexperienced ache. Lance makes a sound. A soft, perfect sound that has him opening underneath Keith’s movements, has him tilting his head to chase the feeling of Keith’s mouth better.

He chokes on the air Lance’s breathing into him, curls his toes and desperately tries to keep up. He can’t think like this, can’t do anything about the tightness of his chest when Lance is crowding him against the wall, body pressing forward until Keith’s opening his thighs to pull him in. He opens his lips too, lets the kiss get wetter and groans when Lance does, the sound rumbling all the way down to his stomach.

Lance is curling his fingers so tightly over the wall he’s trembling.

 _I want to love you,_ Keith thinks deliriously, swallowing the noise Lance makes when he bites at the plush skin of his lower lip. He gasps away from the kiss to soothe his aching lungs, swallowing loudly when Lance tries to follow him, breathing out a whimpering sound. _Want you to let me love you._

Instead, too weak to draw completely away from Lance, he murmurs:

“Shut up.”

They are still connected by the brush of their lips, by the thin string of saliva clinging to their tender mouths, and Keith wants it to be there forever. Wants to feel the echo of Lance on his skin for the rest of his life.

“You shut up,” Lance whispers, hoarse voice tingling Keith’s skin like magic.

The answer is so distinctly Lance that he has to smile, has to give it willingly to Lance’s mouth when he leans down to steal it off.

It feels even better than before, Keith thinks, fingers touching hesitantly where the undersuit clings to Lance’s belly and then gripping tightly when Lance opens him up with eager kisses. He sucks on Keith’s tongue with the echo of a groan and Keith _moans,_ a high sound that reverberates inside his head and throughout Lance’s body. Lance presses closer at that, hips moving unconsciously against Keith and _that_ has pure fire pooling low in his stomach, shimmering as his thighs tremble in place.

“Keith,” he says, for the sake of saying it, to feel the syllables rolling off his tongue.

Lance kisses the corner of his mouth, turns the kiss from frenzy to sweet, and the change of pace makes Keith dizzy, has shyness slamming into him like a whirlwind as his groans burrow inside Lance’s mouth to stay.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Keith murmurs, dragging their lips together, dragging his hands up Lance’s body to loop around his neck. He wants to feel the curve of Lance’s shoulders beneath his fingers so badly it makes his hands twitch. “I don’t--”

But then he’s being kissed again, softly but fiercely, and Keith surrenders to the touch, wishing-- god, _wishing--_ that Lance would uncurl his fingers from the wall and leave bruises on his hips instead.

“I don’t know either,” Lances whispers, breathing heavily as he settles his forehead against Keith’s. His fingers finally leave the wall to trace the outline of Keith’s mouth, to dip his thumb between his colored lips and feel where he has made Keith messy. “But I want you.”

Lance nuzzles their noses together, breathes out a pained sound against the skin above his upper lip before saying: “How I want you.”

The months that they have been apart dissipate from his mind, the uncertainty of his feelings scattering into the wind as he pulls Lance into his mouth to kiss their desperation away. He swears when Lance’s hand settles against the side of his neck, fingers pressing over his pulse point until the space-suit he’s cladded in is straining.

But then Lance is pulling away, brows furrowing and hands tightening on Keith’s frame as he mutters ‘ _t_ _he mission, Lance, the mission’._ Something inside Keith cooes at the force with which Lance is gripping him, finds it incredibly flattering to be the cause of Lance losing himself and feels invincible for it.

And a little irresponsible, he thinks, practically burning with need as he follows Lance’s movements to nip at the line of his throat, bite the soft skin into a bruise before pulling back with wet lips.

He wills himself to calm down, thinks of pushing Lance against soft sheets after completing the mission, thinks of getting lost in each other for hours and sets his shoulders with a renewed fire in his veins.

“The mission,” he says, too, but it’s a long time before their legs feel stable enough to walk on.

**Author's Note:**

> If you leave a comment I'll love you for the rest of eternity. 
> 
> The prompts in this fic will have no relation to each other so if anyone wants to slide in my asks and send some ideas...  
> ⬇ ⬇  
> [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/warmybones) and [Tumblr](http://warmybones.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also may I light your way with some hcs about [Keith's fangs?](http://warmybones.tumblr.com/post/172256983793/warmybones-keiths-fangs-headcanons-about)


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